


No Touching

by Miss_Dyana



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Depending on future chapters, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Post-Season/Series 03, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, That comes with Lenore, Touch-Starved, of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Dyana/pseuds/Miss_Dyana
Summary: You arrived at the castle with the mercenaries — a servant, from what Hector understands. Unlike them, however, you seemed to take an interest in him, regularly coming to watch him at the Forge. 'You can look, but not touch', Lenore told you about him. You didn't expect it would become a problem.../!\ Rating moved up to M due to the presence of implied non-con (it doesn't involve the reader)
Relationships: Hector (Castlevania)/Reader
Comments: 62
Kudos: 309





	1. Watching

Hector was slowly but surely getting used to feeling your eyes on him while he was working. You had introduced yourself the first time you had walked into his forge, but he hadn’t paid much attention to you. You were, after all, human, and as much as he now despised vampires, he hadn’t forgotten how people like you had treated him for years. Sure, you didn’t seem to be that bad — so far. He refused to let himself trust only to be betrayed  _ again. _

You had come with the human mercenaries who had recently been hired by Morana, but you seemed to be more of a servant than anything. He’d seen that the mercenaries didn’t treat you well and, had he been in another situation, he would probably have felt sorry for you.

You often came to see him work during the day. He never talked to you, but he also didn’t see a point in throwing you out. This wasn’t even his forge, after all. He was painfully aware of the fact that he didn’t own anything around him. Lenore tried her best to make him believe he did, to make him think that things weren’t  _ that  _ bad, but he refused to believe her again. This was a cage. A golden one, sure, but a cage nonetheless.

So whenever you walked in, he ignored you. On occasions, he acknowledged you with a nod. You generally went to sit by the window. You leaned against the wall, lifting your legs on the window seat, and you watched him. You could have looked outside — the view was stunning after all, though he didn’t enjoy it much, now that it was tied to Lenore’s manipulation — but he knew you spent most of your time watching him. He wasn’t sure why you did that, or why you even came here in the first place.

He assumed you were trying to escape the presence of the others, and he could understand why you wouldn’t want to be around vampires, but even then, why come  _ here?  _ The reanimation of corpses wasn’t a pleasant sight by any means. Yet almost every day, when you could get away, he assumed, you came in, started by petting his dog, then sat by the window. And watched.

He was starting to grow curious, despite himself.

“I don’t understand what you’re doing here,” he told you flatly one day.

You blinked, and he put his hammer to the side.

“If they asked you to keep an eye on me, there’s no need. I can’t go anywhere and I can’t betray the vampires.” He wasn’t going to talk to you about his ring, you didn’t need to know that. “So if your people are suspicious, you can reassure them. Or tell them to talk things through with the others.”

To his surprise, your expression softened.

“I wasn’t sent here. I just… like watching you work.”

He frowned, but refused to be affected in any way. He cleared his throat, making an effort to keep his voice even. He wanted to believe in your interest, badly, which meant he had to fight himself, but he didn’t want to keep being such an easy prey.

“What is there to watch?”

A smile formed on your lips, and he was struck by how natural it seemed to be for you, to have a conversation with him. It looked genuine, simple, easy.

That didn’t mean it couldn’t be fake.

“When you make the ones with wings, there’s a wrinkle that forms there,” you said, tracing a small line between your eyebrows. “You lift your hammer higher, you bring it down harder. You’re careful with animals when you put them on your table, and when they’re reanimated, you smile. You’re gentle with them. When you’re tired, you rub your shoulders, but you still keep going for a while.”

Hector swallowed. He never thought about most of that. He didn’t understand why you would have noticed that.

“You look at me when you think I won’t notice,” you added, your smile dancing, almost teasingly, on your lips, and he almost thought he liked that sight, until it faded abruptly and your eyes seemed to cloud. “You tense when people approach, when the mercenaries come in here. But you tense most when they mention miss Lenore.”

He didn’t control his muscles’ reaction at  _ her _ name. It was instinctive and immediate. His fist clenched, his nails digging in his palms, and he gritted his teeth. He forced himself to exhale slowly, knowing you were watching, but still glanced away from you self-consciously. He hadn’t expected to be giving that much away.

“Miss Lenore said she didn’t care if I came to watch you,” you added. “But if I bother you, I can—”

“You talked to her?”

The words spilled out of his mouth without warning, heart suddenly racing in his chest. Were you  _ her _ spy? Was she waiting for him to step out of line, expecting you to report his every move to her?

You grimaced at his question, and he saw you shiver.

“She talked to me,” you mumbled, looking away from him. “After I came here the first few times. She said… She said I could look but not touch.”

Hector scoffed. He didn’t know what Lenore was playing at, but he was not going to let it affect him in any way. Touch? Why would you even  _ want _ to touch him?

“So?” you asked, and shook the thought away. “Do you want me to stop coming?”

He decided he was imagining the hint of sadness in your voice, and took the time to think about it. He should have told you that yes, he wanted you out of the forge, but he hesitated. You didn’t bother him, and you were kind to his pets. If you were telling the truth, it was unnecessary to kick you out, and if you weren’t, well, it wasn’t like you were talking or anything. Plus, Lenore had given you her okay, so surely she wouldn’t appreciate him overstepping her authority.

“You can be there,” he shrugged. “I don’t care.”

And yet, the bright smile you gave him in response made his heart flutter, just a little.


	2. Forging

Hector is already working when you come in. You could hear the sound of his hammer, echoing in the valley. Some of the mercenaries complained about it, but they knew Hector was the vampires’ protégé, and none of them dared say anything. When you managed to slip away, you went straight there, of course. It was a moment of calm in your day, and you appreciated Hector’s silent company. You two exchanged a few words now, but it couldn’t really be called a conversation.

That was fine by you, though. You would have loved to talk, and you knew you had a tendency to talk too much, words tumbling out of your mouth easily when you finally had someone who was willing to listen, but you didn’t mind sitting and watching him either. The show was pleasant, to say the least. Your favorite part about it were his expressions, the usually hidden parts of him that shone through in those moments, but you couldn’t say you minded watching the way his muscles moved under his shirt.

You knelt down to pet his dog. It was sitting on the ground calmly, and it didn’t move when it saw you arrive, but you noticed his tail was wagging a little. The sight made you grin. You didn’t know much about forging though, working for mercenaries, you had met some forgemasters, but it was your understanding they were connected to their masters, so… Was Hector happy to see you?

You stole a glance at him. He hadn’t looked at you, from what you could tell at least, and was focused on his work. He showed no sign of having noticed you.

To be fair, he never did.

You went to your usual spot by the window, and silently watched him for a while.

“Is it something you learn?” you asked, almost without noticing it. “Forging, I mean.”

There was the slightest change in his expression. It seemed to become a little harsher, his eyes shining with… You couldn’t quite tell. A mixture of satisfaction, of understanding and of bitterness that you didn’t understand immediately.

“Is  _ that _ why you’re here?” he questioned, and you realized belatedly that he still didn’t believe you came here simply because you  _ wanted _ to. “Do the mercenaries want their own personal forgemaster?”

“No,” you replied, tilting your head to the side. “I’m just… curious, I suppose.”

You liked learning. You couldn’t read well, unfortunately, but you liked listening to people explaining things to you. It had allowed you to pick up things here and there — a recipe for a balm, magic words, how to make bandages…

“Well, it is something you can learn,” he replied curtly, the sound of his hammer filling the air again. “I knew a forgemaster who had studied that art. But it came naturally to me.”

You nodded, watching his hands. You didn’t quite understand  _ how _ it worked. You knew the air had a different feeling when he was using his— magic, if you could call it that, a different smell even, but you wondered what he did, exactly. You would have asked more questions, but you doubted he would want to answer you.

“Do you want to see?” he offered, surprising you.

He held out the hammer, and you jumped on your feet. You weren’t going to let the opportunity pass.

Hector watched as you crossed the room towards him. He didn’t quite understand himself why he’d said that. Not that there was anything you’d be able to do against him, not here, surrounded by his creatures, but he didn’t gain anything from that. Maybe he was just bored. Or lonely…

You took it carefully from his hand, making sure your skin didn’t brush against his.

“No touching,” you said apologetically, and he rolled his eyes. That rule wouldn’t be hard to follow. He didn’t touch people, in general, or well, they didn’t touch him.

Except for Lenore, but the thought of that specific touch made him sick to his stomach.

“Miss Lenore implied that there would be— consequences,” you said, and he started at her name. “For you and me both.”

“Thanks for the warning, I suppose.”

He couldn’t think of any reason why he would touch you anyway.

He watched carefully as you lifted the hammer. You could feel it buzzing with energy in your hands, and yet you could distinctly tell that that energy wasn’t one you would be able to use. Perhaps because it was so clearly  _ his, _ or because it wasn’t something you could master. You weren’t sure. You examined it for a little while, before gently putting it back in his hand.

It was his turn to lift it over his head, and you watched from up close for the first time as he lifted it, as the blue flames started dancing around it, and as he brought it down. From how close you were standing, you could see a droplet of sweat making its way down his temple and onto his chin, and how he gritted his teeth as the hammer made contact, the shock reverberating through his body.

You stepped back carefully as sparks flew your way, and as Hector resumed to his work, you knew the interlude was over. You went back to your seat, still watching his hands, trying to understand, though you probably lacked the knowledge or the sensibility needed, but, after a few moments, you heard his voice again.

“Magic doesn’t bother you?”

He wasn’t looking at you, but you were still the only one he could be talking to here.

“No,” you replied slowly. “Humans… People don’t need magic to do terrible things.”

Your mind drifted to your own situation, trying to buy yourself back from the mercenaries with your own labor. The people who had solved you didn’t have magic. You had seen magic cause chaos, but you had also seen it help people, and you didn’t believe you could use that to categorize people.

Hector hummed vaguely, and that was the only reply you got. You waited for him to add something, but he didn’t, and he didn’t speak to you again. When the sun started to set, you walked out, knowing you’d be needed and not wanting the mercenaries to come look for you — you didn’t really want them knowing where you escaped during the day.

When you petted the dog on your way out, it got up and licked your hand. The sight made you smile.

You weren’t quite sure what you were doing here. Maybe Hector could become a friend. You could definitely use a friend. And if that was what you wanted, well, this was definitely progress, right?

You missed Hector glancing at you on your way out, and you missed his long sigh as he put the hammer down. You seemed nice enough, sure, but he couldn’t let you in. He  _ couldn’t. _ Even if it meant he had to fight himself to keep you out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to see people are enjoying this so far! These are really short, so they're easy to write, but I hope you won't mind their length and the fact that the characters will take their time, at the beginning at least. Thank you for all your kind comments, and as usual, feel free to toss a comment to your writer!


	3. Bleeding

The atmosphere felt strange. Hector didn’t talk to you, hadn’t since you’d asked about his abilities, and your attempts at starting another conversation were met with monosyllabic responses. His dog’s reactions were the only indication that you two had… had what, exactly? Talked? Had a moment?

Sometimes, you caught him looking at you. He was generally frowning and seemed puzzled, like you were a riddle he couldn’t find the answer to. He glanced away quickly when your eyes met his, and that didn’t give you enough time to quite read him. So far, it hadn’t been hard to tell what was going through his mind, but now he seemed to have put up a wall between the two of you, and you just didn’t understand. Had you done something wrong, something that had made him suspicious?

You had noticed, in your previous interactions, that he seemed to expect you to betray him, but there was probably a piece of the puzzle that you didn’t have that would help to make sense of it all. So, knowing there wasn’t much you could do anyway, you accepted the setback. You would have liked to talk to him — you liked the sound of his voice, deep and calm — but you could take the situation as it was.

Hector did his best to push you out of his mind. You were there physically, and he couldn’t bring himself to make you leave, but he didn’t  _ have _ to think of you. He hated how he  _ wanted _ to, how he wanted to get to know you, to believe you had taken an interest in him. That feeling was so strong it almost turned into a need, and that was dangerous. It wasn’t about you exactly, though your kindness and your eyes following his every movement definitely played their part, but he needed  _ someone. _ If he wasn’t careful, he risked letting that person be Lenore, and he couldn’t have that, not when he knew she would betray him in the blink of an eye.

Maybe letting it be you would be smarter after all, that way he would at least have some control over it, but that idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wished he could be more like Isaac. Then he wouldn’t have fallen for Carmilla’s tricks, wouldn’t have left Dracula’s side, wouldn’t need anyone now, and he wouldn’t have ruined his  _ entire _ life by—

His hand slipped, and he cut his palm deeply. He cursed, stepping away from his worktop quickly. Even then, drops of blood fell down and the corpse he was working on twitched. Blood was powerful, particularly that of a forgemaster, and it was dangerous to let it flow freely. Wincing in pain and pressing on the wound with his other hand to stop down the bleeding, he started looking around at something he could wrap around it.

And suddenly, there you were, in front of him, eyes full of concern.

“Give me your hand,” you said with a hint of urgency.

He hesitated a moment. This was the right, the  _ perfect _ moment to push you away. Yet he found himself slowly holding his hand out, opening his fingers for you. You clicked your tongue, and turn around to grab a jar of water he usually drank from, using it to rinse the wound. As soon as that was done, you started wrapping a bandage around his hand with an easiness that could only come from practice, careful not to touch him even then.

He wondered briefly where you’d found it, then realized your sleeve was torn.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It gets cold here.”

_ Why did he care? _

“I’ll figure something out,” you replied with a shrug. You weren’t half bad at sewing, one of the numerous little abilities you’d learned throughout the years. “I’m more worried about this. That kind of wound shouldn’t be bleeding as much.”

“He must be hungry, I suppose,” Hector said, glancing at the corpse that was still lying down on the table.

You looked at it, but didn’t notice anything special about it. It had stopped twitching quickly, Hector knew from experience. A few drops of blood wouldn’t have been enough.

“But he isn’t— a vampire or something, right?”

“No. A forgemaster is… powerful for many things.”

He shouldn’t be telling you that. He shouldn’t even be talking to you. But you were looking up at him with your bright eyes, listening to his every word and he— he  _ liked _ that. At the same time, he couldn’t help but be reminded of Lenore, listening to him, asking him questions only to use it against him.

How could he know you weren’t planning on doing the same thing?

You let go of his hand.

“There. Is it tight enough?”

He tested the bandage. Blood was seeping through a little, but since he had stepped away the bleeding had returned to normal, and you had been right. That type of cut didn’t bleed much.

“It’s fine. You should probably leave.” When you frowned and pain flashed on your face, he felt compelled to explain himself. Again, he  _ shouldn’t. _ But he did it anyway. “I have to go back to work. It could be dangerous to be around here.”

“You’re  _ hurt,” _ you protested, clearly displeased by the news. “You’re not going to be able to hold your hammer right, and if it’s  _ dangerous, _ you really shouldn’t—”

Your concern brought the ghost of a smile on his lips. It was only a second, but you didn’t miss it and  _ God, _ was that sight beautiful.

“I doubt the vampires will care much about that,” he said. In fact, Lenore rather enjoyed when he got hurt. She didn’t usually drink his blood, but she always seized that opportunity when it presented itself. He looked back at the table, thinking. “I’m sure I can—”

You reached out to tilt his face towards you, only holding your touch back at the last second when you remembered Lenore’s instruction. Your fingers just ghosted over his skin for an instant before you removed them, but that was enough to freeze Hector on the spot. You were warm, unlike any touch he had felt in his life.

When he looked at you, you were blushing slightly and taking a step back, and only then did he realize how close you had been standing.

“I should go,” you mumbled, “but I’ll be back tomorrow with a balm, okay?”

_ He should say no. _

“Do as you wish,” he said, and he hated that his breathing was a bit short, just because you’d touched him. He hadn’t felt a human touch, a  _ friendly _ touch in so long, but still, he hated his own weakness. This was what had gotten him in this situation in the first place.

You smiled. Your hand moved, and he wondered —  _ hoped _ — if you would touch him again, but you stilled yourself faster this time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hector,” you said, and he nodded in response.

He did his best not to watch you leave, and when he looked up, you were already gone, and he was alone. He knew he shouldn’t be pleased by this, but it had been so long since he had last looked forward to the next day. Surely, if it was just a little, it wouldn’t hurt, right? He would take care of it, would push you away, just— just not now, not yet.

For now, he would, for the first time in months, look forward to tomorrow.


	4. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter starts to touch on the non-con situation between Lenore and Hector.

You arrived early on the next day. You had slipped away from the mercenaries before you usually did, and you knew they would likely notice it and that it would mean the following days, if not the following weeks, would be more unpleasant for you, but you were somewhat worried. It was stupid, there wasn’t a doubt about it. Hector’s wound wouldn’t kill him, it likely didn’t hurt that much at that point, probably simply throbbed, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how it would be painful while he worked.

He’d seen worse, you’d told yourself, he can take it, he’ll be just fine, but also you just  _ wanted _ to take care of him. You had the feeling no one else here did. He always looked so sad… If you could relieve him of his pain somewhat, even if it was just physical, you thought you should take the opportunity.

He looked surprised when you walked in, and you wondered if he had noticed at which time you came in. The thought made your stomach flutter. He paid more attention to you than he let on, huh? Then maybe you were on the right track after all. You greeted him cheerfully, and his lips curved in a hesitant, amused smile. It didn’t last this time either, but you were starting to decide that you really liked that sight. Probably more than you should.

“I got something for you,” you said, placing the small pot on his table. “It’s a balm,” you explained when he took it hesitantly, “you need to apply it once a day. It should reduce the throbbing and help it heal quicker.”

You’d expected… You didn’t know what you’d expected, but the way his face darkened as he put it back down wasn’t it.

“…thank you,” he said, avoiding your eyes, and you didn’t know how to react to that at all.

After a moment of strange silence, during which he just stared at the ground, lips pinched in a straight line, in a way you simply did  _ not _ understand, you found yourself trying to fill it. You didn’t mind silence, usually, but this was truly unpleasant and heavy.

“I, erm, made it in the last place we were stationed at. It was a harbor, so they have all sorts of things, and I made some in advance.”

Hector nodded vaguely, but still didn’t look at you. You could tell he was listening and that he wasn’t trying as hard as usual to ignore you, and yet you simply didn’t seem to reach him. If he had realized, he would have scoffed. He had failed every time he had actually been  _ trying, _ and now it was working? That was pathetic.

“Don’t you… want to apply it?” you asked. “It would probably help for your work.”

His shoulders tensed and he cleared his throat. You noticed him clenching his fist. The bandage you’d tied around it was still there, which couldn’t be sanitary — he should have changed it.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Let me see,” you offered, “I should change the bandages anyway.”

You weren’t really looking forward to tearing your sleeve a bit more, but you would do it if it was needed. He tried to move out of your reach, but he reacted a little too late, and pulling on just one strip, you unraveled it easily. When it undid, you only caught a glimpse of his hand.

But there was no wound.

He immediately closed it, pressing it against his chest. You stared at it dumbly for a little while, then looked up at him. He was looking at you like he expected you to hit him.

“You healed,” you said slowly. “But that was— pretty deep. There’s no way— How…?”

“Lenore.”

He spat the word, and he said it with such disgust, which such dejection that you felt your heart ache for him.

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. You hated how he didn’t meet your eyes. He kept his hand against him, and it really looked like it was still wounded. You instinctively wanted to step forward, to check it, but you couldn’t even touch him, so there was no use, and you stayed still.

“Vampires’ saliva has healing abilities. That’s what they use so their— food doesn’t die unless they want it to.”

You frowned.

“But that’s on— an open wound.”

He shrugged, and it killed you that he seemed almost nonchalant about it. You could tell it was just an act, but he was pretending this was normal and it drove you insane. But then again, it probably  _ was _ the norm for him.

“Lenore does use the excuse to drink from me when she has the chance.”

“That can’t be pleasant,” you mumbled, and he flinched. He didn’t reply. He couldn’t tell you that vampires’ bite only hurt when they wanted it to, and Lenore didn’t want it to. She enjoyed much more how ashamed he was from liking it, she enjoyed telling him that things could be good if he’d only let them, making him feel like he was being difficult. He had to tell himself, again and again and again, that it wasn’t  _ true. _ She was using him, this wasn’t  _ right,  _ it— it couldn’t be.

It was harder each time.

“You should take the balm back,” he said. Shame was burning in his stomach. What did you think of him, knowing he was some— some vampire  _ pet? _ “You might need it.”

You shook your head.

“It’s fine, I have some left and… you never know. It might come in handy. It also helps with sore muscles.”

Again, there was an awkward silence, and you shifted your weigh from one leg to another, looking at the ground. You should be leaving. Clearly, you’d only brought him something useless, and you felt a bit dumb for that. Hector broke it first this time.

“Aren’t you— staying?”

You looked up at him. You were surprised at his question and surprised at the hope, the despair in his voice. He didn’t like it much himself, but he couldn’t help it. He needed something to cling to, and with the way you’d stepped into his life, you were all he had. All he had to stay sane. He hated himself for it, he wanted to be stronger than that, wanted to be able to stand on his own. But he  _ couldn’t, _ and you were better than nothing. Or, well, better than Lenore. Hopefully, he’d still manage to keep his guard up so he wouldn’t be too hurt if — when — you betrayed him.

Your face softened.

“I can’t stay too long, but— sure.”

And when relief washed on his face, you decided you’d made the right choice. There was something wrong here, in how terrible he looked after seeing Lenore. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about possible implications. It made you  _ angry. _ But there was nothing you could do. You certainly couldn’t stand up to a vampire, you couldn’t even give him a hug. All you could do was stay around him, and hope it helped him feel better.

You took your spot by the window, brushing against him as you walked by him, and you heard him inhaling sharply.

Every now and then he looked up at you while he worked, and he always seemed to find some relief in meeting your eyes. You didn’t see him smile again that day, but he finally seemed to be accepting you.

So you stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this little series! I was thinking I'd try to update it on Wednesdays and Sundays, and I'll see how that works for me :) I mean, this isn't going to be extremely long, but I still have quite a lot of ideas I'd like to explore for this, so I hope you're enjoying the ride, and, you know, feel free to let me know, I love to read what you think about this!


	5. Drinking

You were shivering when you walked into the forge. Hector acted like he didn’t notice you coming in, but the truth was, you were late, and he was acutely aware of it. He’d been glancing at the door every few seconds for the last thirty minutes at least, trying to pretend that he was  _ not _ bothered, and he had almost ordered his dog to go look for you. Almost.

You pet the dog gently, and it let out an enthusiastic ‘woof’ that had you chuckling despite the cold. You then went to sit by the window, as usual, arms wrapped around yourself as you tried to get some warmth. Hector frowned. That wouldn’t do. There was a fire in the forge, but that was about it, and you were sitting pretty far from it.

“You should go over there,” he advised, pointing at it, and you blinked.

“What?”

“The fire. You should go sit over there.”

He felt a blush creeping on his face while you stared at him. He probably shouldn’t have said that. In fact, he shouldn’t even have noticed that you were cold, because he shouldn’t have paid attention to you at all — but he did. It almost scared him, the way you’d managed to walk into his life, so easily, so suddenly, and how there was nothing he had been able to do to keep you out.

He was definitely at fault here. He’d refused to take the smart steps to do it. He could still try to push you away, it wasn’t too late, even if your absence  _ already _ affected him. He just needed to find it in himself to do it. It was too dangerous, to care for someone, to trust them… He shouldn’t risk it.

“But then I won’t be able to look at you while you work,” you said, furrowing your brow, and  _ of course _ he couldn’t say anything after that. He hated himself for it.

“You also won’t freeze to death.”

A smile danced on your lips, and you gave him a playful wink.

“Worth it.”

He took a sharp breath. He knew you were joking, that you were teasing, and that was very new to him, but he couldn’t help but think back— It felt like ages ago now—  _ Her _ calling him pretty and him falling for it like a fool.

“I… was kidding,” you said, and your voice snapped him out of the memory, and he was breathing fast when he looked back at you, at your large, worried eyes. “Seriously, I’m not going to die from this, Hector. I just— I had a long day and I’d rather sit here.”  _ And be cold,  _ you finished mentally, unable to understand Hector’s reaction. 

You’d known from his eyes that he wasn’t  _ actually _ looking at you, but he was holding his hammer so tightly his knuckles were white, you could see the muscles of his jaw tensing, and clearly there was something there that you didn’t know about, something that worried you.

“I— see. It’s your choice, after all, I suppose.”

His voice was dull, and he seemed to just shrug it off and go back to work, which did nothing to reassure you. Clearly, you’d said something that had affected him, and he wasn’t fooling you by acting like that. You rubbed your arms energetically, still trembling. The forge was better than outside, but it clearly wasn’t enough. Your teeth were chattering, and you tried to still yourself, but it just didn’t seem to be working.

You didn’t exactly mind the cold. Clearly, this wasn’t pleasant, but you could take it. You had before, you would again. You just needed some time to warm yourself up, and you would be  _ just _ fine.

“I have tea,” Hector said. “I can— make you some.”

“Oh, that w-would be  _ great, _ if you don’t mind,” you said, sighing in relief. It had been a while since you’d last had tea, actually. You’d certainly enjoy that.

Hector walked to the fire, placing water to boil, then gestured at you to join him, and you did with an amused smile. Looked like he’d tricked you into sitting by the fire anyway.

You watched him carefully, as you always did, while he got the water ready, then poured it into a cup and put the leaves in. As always, you found it fascinating to watch him do that, but there was something different this time. The way he kept glancing back at you, and then away, quickly, every time he met your eyes. Maybe he was blushing — or maybe it was just the steam. Either way, a pleasant warmth that had nothing to do with the fire bloomed inside your stomach.

He finally handed the beverage to you. You took it from him, letting out a small noise of content when you wrapped your fingers around the hot cup. Taking a sip, you gave him a satisfied smile at the feeling of the hot water spreading its warmth in your body.

“Thank you,” you said, and you meant it.

He gave a short nod. A smile briefly made its way to his face, before vanishing quickly, and your heart missed a beat. Yeah. You really, really liked it when he smiled. You wanted to see him doing it more.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked curiously. “You… tolerated me, at best. You don’t have to do that.”

Conflicting emotions appeared on his face, too quick for you to read them precisely. Annoyance, at first, then fear, then sadness, and it settled on something softer. Not quite affection yet, but… close enough.

“I— You could say I’m— taking a chance.”

_ Please don’t let me down. Not again. _

“I’m glad you are then,” you said with a smile, unable to know exactly what he was thinking, but still feeling his discomfort, and emotions bloomed in his chest, making his throat tighter, his mouth dry, and just— just washing over him without him being able to do anything about it. “I hope you’ll find it worth it.”

Again, he nodded.

“Me too.”

He desperately needed it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's enjoying this, thank you for your kind words, your support means a lot and I'm happy to know people enjoy watching Hector get better (well... he's not there yet, but we'll get to it) as much as I enjoy writing him doing so! As always, please consider leaving a comment to let me know how you feel, it really helps motivating me to know you guys like it, and I'll see you soon for more!


	6. Serving

You were late the next day as well. In fact, you came in even later, and Hector was starting to worry you wouldn’t show. He did his best to quiet all the reproaches his mind was hissing at him, telling him he shouldn’t  _ worry, _ that he shouldn’t care at all, that he was weak for letting you shatter his defenses and his resolves, and that he’d deserve anything that would undoubtedly come his way for letting this happen yet again. He couldn’t listen to it anymore, it was too late for that. He’d made a choice, and now all he could do was hold on to it, and hope it was the right one.

God, he hoped it was the right one…

When you did arrive, you greeted him a smile, pet the dog, then went to sit by the window. You seemed surprised to see the cup of tea waiting there for you. He’d made it while waiting for you, even as he worked.

“It… must be cold by now,” Hector said as you reached out to take it. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, taking a sip. He was right, the tea was cold, and it couldn’t warm you, but the taste was still pleasant.

“Don’t worry about it,  _ I _ am sorry I’m late. It’s just— the others didn’t like that I left early last week. They’re— giving me sort of a hard time over it.” You shrugged. The mercenaries weren’t  _ that _ bad, and having to work longer than usual was a pretty tame ‘punishment’. “I really appreciate you making me the tea,” you added, smiling.

Hector swallowed, and fear spread through his chest. He didn’t understand where the emotion came from, and he rubbed his hand uneasily, thumb lingering on the ring that was there, which he generally tried his best to forget. So this was his fault then. The one time you’d come early had been to give him the balm, and you were paying for it.

It was because of him.

“I can make you some more,” he offered.

His tone had you somewhat confused. He sounded almost eager, a bit too insistent. It was a stark contrast with the way he’d been with you until now, and you weren’t sure where the change came from. Him telling you he was taking a chance on you did seem like a pretty big step forward, but that didn’t explain everything.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s fine, really. And you don’t  _ have _ to make me tea either, by the way, I don’t mean to give you  _ more _ work.”

You were relieved to see his shoulders relax as he gave you a nod, and got back to work. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and putting your head in your hands as you watched him. You almost envied him, right now.  _ He _ certainly didn’t look cold, doing his work, and you couldn’t say the same for yourself. You were drinking the tea but, while enjoyable, it did nothing for your temperature this time.

Your teeth started to chatter, despite your efforts at stilling your jaw. You noticed Hector looking up at you a couple of times. As often, his expression was unreadable for you, but you still tried to quiet yourself. The last thing you wanted was to distract him.

After a while, he stopped his work, and left the forge for another room. You had no idea what he was doing — you’d never been to a different room in his house.

“Hector?”

You watched, confused, then surprised, when he came back with a blanket, and immediately, a wide smile broke on your face. This was incredibly thoughtful. Again, not anything you needed (though there was always the possibility he was that annoyed by the noise your teeth made), but it was very kind of him.

“Oh, God, thank you! Really, you didn’t have to, but…”

Wordlessly, he unfolded it and covered you with it, which made you chuckle. Then he knelt in front of you and started arranging it on you, and the gesture suddenly struck you as weird. Not the fact that he would do it, but the way he did it. Silently, carefully, like… Like a servant.

“Thanks, Hector, but I can do that myself.”

Immediately, his hands left you, and worry flashed on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

As he apologized, you understood, slowly, what he was feeling. You should have known. It was definitely something that you had experienced time and time again.

He was afraid you were going to punish him.

You didn’t think when you reached for his hand. You stopped right before actually touching it, and his eyes slowly fell on to it. He could feel the warmth radiating from your skin, could imagine what it would feel like.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Hector, that’s not it, it’s just— You don’t have to do that. I mean it. I want you to be a friend, not a—” You paused, hesitating on the right word to finish your sentence.

“Not a pet,” Hector finished for you, voice empty, as his shoulders slumped. He’d done something wrong. Again. Not that you knew, exactly, what his relationship with Lenore was. He could only imagine how disgusted you would be if you found out.

You frowned, and he visibly  _ flinched _ at that. You wanted to touch his face, to reassure him, to tell him that you weren’t  _ mad, _ that he hadn’t done anything  _ wrong, _ that he  _ couldn’t _ do anything wrong because you were just talking and he was just saying what was on his mind and there was nothing wrong with that whatsoever, but you couldn’t do that. So you reached out, slowly, careful not to actually touch him, to mimic the movement you really wanted to do, a few millimeters above his skin. His eyes widened and he watched you, perfectly still, as you did.

“I was going to say ‘not a servant’. I’m happy you’re letting me be here, I’m happy you’re talking to me. I don’t  _ need _ anything more.”

Hector fought the urge to lean into your touch. He wanted to feel you, to know what your skin would feel like against his, not to just imagine it.

“I’m— not sure what you want me to do.”

You closed your eyes in frustration. You hated that you couldn’t express yourself more clearly.

“I don’t— I don’t want you to do anything. Well, I’m don’t want you to feel like you  _ have _ to do anything. I’m not going to complain if you make me tea, just— just treat me as you would a friend, okay?”

He hadn’t had many friends. In fact, by now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had any. He would have considered Dracula a friend, but in the end, he wanted something from him. He’d lied to him and, in the end, Hector had failed him miserably. He respected Isaac greatly, but he doubted Isaac felt the same way about him, and they weren’t friends. Then there were Carmilla and Lenore, and the idea of calling them ‘friends' made him want to laugh bitterly.

“I’m not used to that, exactly,” he admitted, and it hurt you to see him so vulnerable, “but I’ll try. I’ll… learn.”

You bit your lip, studying him thoughtfully. You didn’t want to make things harder for him, but you also didn’t want him to treat you like that. You weren’t… You weren’t  _ Lenore. _ You didn’t want him to be afraid of disappointing, didn’t want him to feel like he had to give in to your desires, but right now you felt like this was exactly what you were doing, saying that.

“Just don’t worry about it. Please. Don’t worry about me.”

He did, though. He didn’t want you to leave, to stop visiting him, and that  _ scared _ him. He could learn, though. Not for you. For himself.

But, if you were willing to try with him, definitely with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat more serious chapter... Writing that final scene was very important to me, I think Hector would struggle developing a healthy relationship given the way the ones he tried to build before went. Hopefully he will get there though! (what am I talking about I'm writing this) I hope you guys are enjoying this, thank you so much for your kind words and enthusiasm! As always, I'd love it if you left a comment, and I should see you Sunday for the next chapter!


	7. Walking

Hector wasn’t in his forge when you walked in, which left you a bit surprised and unsure of what to do. It was the first time that happened, and you found yourself suddenly realizing how little you knew about him, even about something as simple as his house. You’d never gone anywhere beside the forge, and you didn’t want to invade his privacy.

You stood there, hesitant, for a little while, until Hector walked in. His dog was after him happily and, for the first time, the forgemaster greeted you with a smile. It wasn’t a bright smile; it wasn’t even a particularly happy one, but it was a smile nonetheless, and you were happy to be there to witness it.

“I don’t have any work to do today,” Hector said. He sounded a bit strange, like he wasn’t sure how to speak with you outside of his usual occupation. Words came out too fast or too slow, and you couldn’t tell if he was excited or annoyed. “I’m allowed a certain distance from the castle, so I figured I’d go for a walk. Care to join me?”

You decided that his tone was a hopeful one, and you replied with a bright smile.

“I would  _ love _ to,” you said, and you meant it. There was fear, flashing through your veins briefly. The mercenaries wouldn’t like it if they saw you walk out. As lenient as they were most of the time, they still probably wouldn’t take lightly to watching you leave the camp. You’d never tried to flee, but you doubted they would take ‘going for a walk’ as a nice excuse.

Then fear was replaced by a pleasant thrill, one you’d become familiar with over the years. That was a risk you were willing to take. You’d just need to slip out. Couldn’t be that hard.

The smile lifted Hector’s lips again. It was softer, but also more sincere, and you decided it was worth it, though to be fair, you would have done it even if it wasn’t. Just to remind yourself that you  _ could.  _ No matter your situation, you still had a bit of agency, and you were going to cling to it.

“Shall we?” you asked, cocking your head towards the door.

You would have offered him your arm, but you still knew better than to do that. With Lenore, you weren’t going to take the risk.

Hector nodded, clicked his tongue, and the dog ran out barking. The two of you followed, a chuckle on your lips, the ghost of his previous smile on his.

The cold was biting outside, and you still didn’t have much clothes on your back, but you decided you would probably be fine as long as you kept moving. The sun was high, shining bright on the snow, and you threw your head back to feel it on your skin. Hector glanced at you, then did the same thing.

“It was warmer in Rhodes,” he said, almost absent-mindedly.

“Is that where you’re from?”

He almost jumped at your question. He couldn’t let things like that slip. Not that this particular information would be of any use to you, but if he started to say things like that, spontaneously, in front of Lenore, who knew what he’d let out? How she’d use it against him?

Yet, right now, in the sunlight, with you looking at him like you were interested in his answer, like you  _ cared, _ the anxiety didn’t last. His shoulders relaxed, and he found himself replying almost naturally, as though conversation was something he was used to, as though he hadn’t been stabbed in the back by all the people who’d done that, at one point or another.

Save for Isaac, perhaps. Isaac would likely stab him in the front.

“It is.”

“It’s a nice place,” you commented.

“You’ve been there?”

You chuckled.

“I grew up on a ship. I don’t think there is an island in that sea that I haven’t set foot on.”

It certainly sounded like an interesting life, but you didn’t elaborate, and Hector didn’t ask why it had ended.

The two of you walked in the snow for a while. You were feeling chatty today, and your voice easily filled in the blanks Hector left, but for once, you didn’t think he was holding back. Instead, it seemed that he wasn’t quite used to— well, to talking. When he found something to reply to you, or something to share, he seemed happy to say it, almost too eager. You thought it was sweet.

You stopped when you reached a river. You were trying to find a way to get across it when Hector spoke.

“That’s as far as I can go.”

It was like blowing out a candle. Suddenly, his voice was back to being dull, the words were coming out in that regular pattern. There was nothing spontaneous in this and, as you realized just then, nothing spontaneous in his life.

Lenore kept him on a leash. Gave him a false sense of freedom, let him go places, but only where  _ she _ wanted him to go. Told him where, when, how long. Told him who he could  _ touch, _ and the thought that you were only a pawn in her sick game of control made you sick to your stomach.

The walk home was silent. You wished you could find something to talk to, but this was leaving a bitter taste in your mouth instead, which you guessed was the entire point of Lenore’s orders. Just a way of reminding Hector that there was nothing he could have that you didn’t give him.

“Where the fuck are you coming from?” a voice shouted from behind you, and you spun around, right in time for a man to pin you against a tree, arm on your throat.

You recognized him as Albrecht. Tall, with a blonde beard, and, unfortunately for you, strong as a bear. Before you could even try to answer, considering he was crushing your trachea, Hector’s hand was on his wrist.

“Let go,” he said blankly.

“I certainly don’t take orders from you,” Albrecht spat, “don’t think I’m scared of some vampire pet, you fucking—”

He screamed when Hector’s dog jumped on to him, biting him viciously, and you wheezed when his arm left your throat, falling to the ground.

“Do not touch her again,” Hector said, face and voice devoid of emotion. “Or there will be  _ far _ worse to suffer.”

He could ask his creatures to turn on him in the middle of battle, could ask his animals to devour him, could probably devise a thousand other plans. The man must have read it in his eyes, because he simply turned and ran.

Hector turned to look at you, and the facade broke instantly.

“Are you okay?”

There was such genuine concern, such worry that you almost had trouble believing he was the same man. You nodded, rubbing your throat.

“I’ll be fine. I think.”

He held his hand out for you and you shook your head.

“I can’t. Remember?”

“Right.”

How could he forget? He never forgot Lenore’s orders. He never had the  _ chance _ to do that.

You pushed yourself up on your own and gave him a nod.

“Thank you, Hector.”

He found it in himself to smile, and there was a little something in it that was even genuine.

“Let me know if anything goes wrong with him again.”

“Careful,” you laughed, “I might take you up on that!”

Selfishly, he found himself hoping you would. That you’d— need him. Like he needed you. That he would be able to help you, to be useful in any way. That he wouldn’t just be a useless burden.

“Please do,” he whispered.


	8. Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied non-con — it's in the tags but it is a lot more present in this chapter. Please also notice I've moved the rating up to M because though there won't be anything explicit in this part of the story, this chapter made me feel it was warranted.

As it turned out, Hector’s outburst with Albrecht earned you a lot of freedom. It also earned you a lot of dark looks, sneers, and salacious jokes about your, ahem,  _ promiscuity  _ with him, all behind your back, but you could handle these, especially if they meant you were generally left alone. You still weren’t going to take a risk, so you didn’t taunt the mercenaries and did your chores before joining Hector at the forge.

The moments you spent with him were by far the most pleasant part of your day. It wasn’t like much changed — Hector didn’t suddenly become talkative, and you remained sitting in your spot by the window, the blanket always waiting for you when you arrived.

Still, things weren’t quite the same. Hector listened to you complain, and though he didn’t say much, you caught glimpses of him smiling when he was focused on his work. You weren’t sure he knew you could see them, or that he even knew he was smiling, but you loved that. You loved that you could make him smile, and you liked to imagine that, perhaps, he forgot about his situation for a moment.

He let things slip out about that, on a few occasions. He never gave you a detailed explanation, and you didn’t fault him for that, but there were things he said sometimes that sent a shiver down your spine. Like that one time when you explained Albrecht’s reaction.

“He feared I was trying escape, I suppose.”

“Right.” A joyless, disgusted laugh fell from Hector’s lips. The sound was unpleasant, grating. “I didn’t think of that. Probably because I can’t escape. No matter what.”

You could have insisted then, probably, but the atmosphere in the room had turned into something so dark that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. So you dropped it.

Then there was the time you mentioned the way you’d grown up.

“They say it takes a village to raise a child,” you’d laughed, “but I guess it works for a crew as well. A large, untraditional, non blood-related family. But it was my family, and I think they did fine.”

You didn’t know what had happened to them, after you’d been attacked by pirates. You liked to think that they were still out there, sailing the seas. Sometimes, when you were feeling down, you even told yourself they were looking for you, that the captain could burst through the door at any second to save you.

The truth was likely a lot uglier than that, but you tried not to dwell on it. Still, there was a hint of sadness in your voice as you talked about them. Hector missed it.

“Traditional, blood-related families can do quite a terrible job,” he commented. His voice was quivering with anger in only the slightest of ways, but you still noticed it. “Perhaps it is for the best you didn’t have to deal with that.”

You didn’t add anything to that. You did consider yourself mostly lucky for how your life had unfolded. There were things you wished had been different, but how you were raised, the people you had grown up with, definitely weren’t part of it. Clearly, that wasn’t his case.

Hector liked to hear you talk about that, though, and you certainly didn’t mind telling your stories about that. Seeing a world in which children could evolve without being called monsters, could be loved… He needed that. Needed to believe that could exist. You childhood hadn’t been strictly sunshine and rainbows, not by any stretch of the imagination, but you were happy to provide the examples you had.

You didn’t even notice you had stayed longer that day. Sure, Hector had put down his hammer, being done with his stock for the day, had prepared tea and was sitting next to the table, facing you, a reasonable distance between you, but you didn’t see the sun go down. You were busy talking about your captain, the larger than life woman that ruled the ship and somehow had a soft spot for children.

Hector punctuated your sentences with nods, smiles, and even the occasional chuckle.

Then, someone discreetly cleared their throat behind him, and the two of you jumped. He turned around quickly, but you were frozen on the spot, eyes already on the woman who was standing there.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about her. Long red hair, porcelain skin, rosy cheeks… She looked just like a doll, save for the fangs that poked out of her mouth.

You bowed, deeply.

“What are you doing here, Lenore?” Hector asked, voice and body tense.

“I just wanted to talk to you, Hector,” she replied innocently, batting her eyelashes. “In private, if possible?”

She said it in a sweet, sugary tone, but you could recognize an order when you heard one.

“Of course, right this instant, Mistress Lenore,” you replied as fast as you could, pushing the blanket aside and getting out. You were almost at the door, heart beating so loudly you couldn’t think, when she called you again.

“Oh, and, human?”

You turned around. The look Hector gave you broke your heart. Everything about it was telling you not to leave him, telling you he needed help, that he needed saving. For less than a second, you felt the urge to take him by the hand and get him out of here, and then reality caught you back, and you didn’t move. You knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that Lenore would kill you if you disobeyed her. So instead, you swallowed, and you looked away.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I would advise you do not try to take advantage of my kindness.”

The message was clear. She’d given you enough —  _ given _ you Hector, and you hated that she even thought she could do that — and you would be wise not to try to take more.

You nodded politely.

“Understood, Mistress.”

You glanced at Hector one last time on your way out. His expression was desperate, and walking out on him at that very moment was probably one of the hardest thing you had ever done. But if you wanted to live, you had no choice.

As soon as you had walked out, Lenore shook her head, and turned back to look at Hector.

“I’m sure you’re well-behaved, but Hector, I still have to ask… You haven’t disrespected my orders, have you?”

He didn’t reply immediately, and Lenore put her hand on his, which was laying on the table. The contact almost had him shivering, and he couldn’t help it when his fingers closed around hers. He needed someone to touch him, and he hated,  _ hated _ that she was the only one who could and would give it to him. Hated that he wanted it so bad that he had no choice but to accept it.

“…No. I haven’t.”

“Good boy,” Lenore smiled, and the words had his stomach twirling with disgust. “It  _ would _ be a shame if you did. Then I would have no choice but to take action. Against you, and against her, of course.”

He closed his eyes. Lenore took a step towards him and cupped his cheek.

“You understand that, don’t you Hector?”

No. No, he didn’t.

“Yes.”

“Good boy,” Lenore praised him again. “I wanted to let you know that I was leaving for a few days, perhaps a few weeks. There are some issues I need to discuss with the ruler a neighboring castle. I’ll be taking some of your creatures with me.”

He nodded, and didn’t say a word. He felt hollow, empty. The beginning of the conversation, her casual way of asserting her power over him, that had drowned him completely, and he just didn’t have it in himself to fight her anymore.

“Will you miss me?” she asked, pouting, and he knew she was doing it to get a rise out of him. He clenched his fist.

“What answer do you want to hear?” he asked.

_ “I _ will miss you,” she replied, and it was a lie, of course it was a lie, but he wanted to believe it  _ so _ bad. “So how about we make some— interesting memories, before I go?”

His stomach churned. There was no use in trying to refuse it, so he just nodded one more time. He couldn’t accept it out loud.

“Ah, am I glad I invested in that bed,” Lenore chuckled, taking his arm and guiding him towards the bedroom, and Hector looked over his shoulder one last time, wishing against all hopes that you would be here to take him away, to save him like you had seemed to do ever since you’d first walked through that door. But of course, you weren’t there. You couldn’t be.

The door clicked as it closed behind him and Lenore and Hector knew it was best to abandon all hope.

He was all on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, Lenore appears... I mean it was a long time coming but still. Oof. I'm sorry about the last scene, I feel it's important but it made me feel extremely gross.


	9. Tiptoeing

When you walked in, you couldn’t help but feel that the forge was a little too quiet. Hector was standing there, his back turned to you, and the sounds of the hammer were echoing in the room, so you couldn’t quite place what was wrong, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling. Maybe it was how regular his movements were, like clockwork, maybe it was his dog, eerily immobile, or maybe it was the fire that was barely burning.

No matter what it was, it sent a shiver running down your spine.

You stood behind him for a while, unsure of what to do. You felt unwanted, and you had to actively fight the urge to turn away. In the end, you cleared your throat hesitantly. The dog’s head moved to look at you, but didn’t run to you, as he often did those days, and Hector didn’t turn around to greet you, though his rhythm faltered for a moment. It was like a cold hand reached into your chest to squeeze your heart, and it just confirmed what you were feeling.

Something was wrong there.

“Good afternoon,” you said, throat tight. “Is… is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Hector replied too quickly, with that empty voice of his, devoid of emotions, that you had come to hate.

You bit your lower lip before walking to the dog to pet him gently. He lifted his head to meet your hand, and you chuckled lightly as you knelt down by his side. There was the slightest shift in Hector’s posture, and you were pretty sure he glanced at you, but he resumed to his occupation too fast for you to be certain.

Standing back up, you made your way to the window. The blanket was still there, but it was exactly the way you’d left it. Usually, Hector folded it and prepared it for you, and you knew it was stupid, but you liked that, liked that he did it out of care for you. This time, though, the fact that he hadn’t didn’t tell you that he didn’t care anymore, but it did worry you. Again, the feeling that something was  _ wrong _ overwhelmed you.

“Did things go— okay, with Lenore, last night?”

There was a mere shrug from Hector.

“Fine, I suppose,” he said, and this time there was the slightest hint of emotion in his voice. Anger, perhaps, as it almost sounded like it was spoken through gritted teeth.

The silence that followed was heavy. You could feel it hanging between you, crushing your chest and weighing on your shoulders. You swallowed. You felt the terrible need to fill it. Not just to lighten it, but because you were afraid that this silence would last. That if you didn’t act, you might actually lose Hector.

“She didn’t give you a hard time about me being here, did she? I’m sorry I stayed so long, I didn’t see time pass and—”

“She asked if we were following her orders,” Hector interrupted you, voice blank again. And then, with a twinge of… tenderness, perhaps, he added “…I don’t mind if you’re here.”

That made you feel a little better, at least, though it did nothing to explain the way he was behaving today. If Lenore hadn’t said anything, if everything was as good as he said it was, then what was really going on? Should you keep pushing? He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so wouldn’t it do more bad than good? But if you didn’t ask, would it really be for his own good, or because you were too scared of what you were going to find?

You forced a smile. The questions were buzzing unpleasantly in your mind, especially that last one, that made guilt bubble in your stomach, but for now, perhaps you could at least make him feel a little better.

“If you keep saying things like that, you’ll never get rid of me,” you warned him, doing your best to instil playfulness into your words, even if it was forced.

A smile broke briefly on Hector’s face, and relief flooded your veins, but it disappeared quickly, and the expression that replaced it was almost devastating.

At that moment, Hector almost broke. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to run to you, to tell you everything, to— to cry in your arms, to let you comfort him. And then, you’d take him away from this dreadful place, away from Lenore, and he’d be safe and he’d never have to think about it ever again.

Except that couldn’t happen. Just like him, you were enchained. You couldn’t do anything about your own situation, let alone his.

He took a deep breath. Telling you what happened behind closed doors wouldn’t do any good, and you knowing wouldn’t change anything. Also… He didn’t think he’d be able to handle the emotions that would appear in your eyes if he told you. The pity. The disgust, perhaps, mirroring his own, mirroring his shame for not putting up enough of a fight, for letting Lenore— have her  _ way _ with him.

Of course, there was always the possibility that that  _ wouldn’t _ be your reaction. That your pretty face would scrunch up in anger and that you’d tell him that none of that was alright, that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, that he was a victim, that there was only one culprit here, and it wasn’t him. And you’d open your arms to him, and the world would finally feel right.

But he couldn’t take the risk, and you couldn’t even touch him, so what was the point in thinking about it? He needed to block it all out, like he usually did. Act as if last night hadn’t happened. Forget.

“What if—” His voice broke. “What if I don’t want to get rid of you?” He didn’t mean, didn’t want to sound like that. Desperate, pleading, on the verge of begging you to stay, because you were  _ all _ he had.

You smiled, and your smile was balm for his wounded mind.

“Then I’ll stay.”

You didn’t push him. Maybe you should have, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it right now, and when relief appeared on Hector’s face, and he gave you a genuine smile, you decided it could wait.

There was something wrong, perhaps something terrible, happening here, with him, and you promised yourself you would entangle all the threads to this complicated puzzle. Right now, the two of you were just carefully walking around what you suspected to be the main problem, the elephant in the room: his relationship with Lenore.

But it could probably wait.

“What are you doing right now?” you asked, eyeing his work.

“Ah, you see…”

He started talking, and you listened as he explained.

Clearly, Hector needed a distraction, and you would provide him with one. It was only a short-term solution, and you knew if you wanted to really make a difference, you would have to know, eventually. But you’d wait, until he could tell you about it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you didn't miss me too much on Sunday. I explained it over on my Tumblr (dyavania if you're interested), but I'm in the middle of my finals, so I couldn't write the next chapter, but hey, you get it now, and hopefully I'll be able to go back to my usual update schedule. If I can't post this week, which is possible because I have three papers left to write, I should still be here next Wednesday! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, it's not technically action-packed but there's a lot going on emotionally and I really liked writing it, so feel free to toss me a comment to let me know what you think and I will see you guys soon!


	10. Sharing

The cold was particularly biting that day. You had gotten a pelt from one of the mercenaries, which helped you to find the courage to go to Hector’s house, and you were delighted to find the fire roaring and his blanket prepared for you. You didn’t talk much as you tried to regain some heat in your trembling body, but when you were finally warm and comfortable, you realized that Hector seemed cold as well.

That was new. His work was quite physical, and it wasn’t rare to see him wiping sweat off of his brow, but apparently, the cold was getting even to him. It wasn’t much — clearly, he was handling it better than you — but sometimes a shiver had his shoulders shaking, and every once in a while, he blew on his hands to warm them before swiftly going back to work. You watched silently for a while, and then came the time when you couldn’t resist anymore.

“Is everything okay, Hector?” you asked, worry straining your voice.

He glanced at you, a flash of surprise in his eyes, and then he gave you that tender smile that had heat pooling in your stomach.

“As you might have noticed, it is pretty cold,” he replied, a hint of gentle mockery in his voice, and you couldn’t help but grin. So he made jokes, now? You couldn’t say you minded, even if he was making fun of you. “The house is not exactly well insulated,” he then added more seriously. “Vampires do not seem to have a great perception of cold or heat, so I suppose they did not pay much attention to it.”

“Couldn’t you ask them to do something about it?” you asked, tilting your head. You had a limited understanding of those things, but you knew how bad the cold could get, and that couldn’t be good for him.

It was so brief you could have missed it, but his shoulders tensed, just a second, until he easily shrugged it off.

“I’m fine with it. I don’t exactly like asking them for stuff.”

It came out bright and easy, voice clear and smooth. Clearly, it was natural, almost rehearsed, and you knew that, while it wasn’t an actual lie, it couldn’t possibly be the whole truth. Hector was hiding something from you and, even if you could understand why he wouldn’t want to tell you about  _ everything,  _ it was still a nasty feeling worming its way under your skin.

Not just because he wasn’t telling you, but because of what it had to be hiding. You knew he was more or less a prisoner here, and you could guess that he didn’t want to owe the vampires anything, but why? What was so bad that he didn’t want them to have anything to use against him?

When you shivered, it had nothing to do with the cold.

“Do you want me to add more wood to the fire?” Hector asked, misinterpreting it.

You shot him a glare that seemed to surprise him.

“Hector,  _ you’re _ the one who’s cold.”

He chuckled softly, and  _ God,  _ it was like your heart was melting. He tilted his head and lifted a hand in front of his mouth as he did, and his laugh was light and clear, and you hoped it would never stop.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll warm up as I work. You don’t need to worry about me.”  _ Even if it’s very nice when you do. _

You shook your head disapprovingly.

“How long have you been at it by now? Clearly, it’s not working.”

“It has been a few hours,” he admitted, “but…”

“Why don’t you just call it a day? It’s too cold. Tomorrow, I’ll ask a mercenary if they can do anything about the insulation, but for now…” You lifted the blanket invitingly. “Just take a break.”

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. The offer was very tempting, he had to admit. He had been slow all day anyway, and he doubted he would catch up. Also, with Lenore gone, it was unlikely that anyone would come to check out on him. Not like Lenore ever commented on his work anyway. So surely… Surely there would be no harm done if he took half the day off.

He put the hammer on the table and sighed.

“Fine. But only because you insisted.”

You laughed, and Hector grinned as he made his way towards you. He couldn’t even properly act like he didn’t want it.

He sat next to you, back against the window, and sighed as you pulled the blanket over him. It was already nice and warm. Just what he needed. His hands in particular were freezing, and for an instant, he thought about putting it on your cheek. You’d squeak and jump, and he was sure it would be  _ adorable. _

Then he remembered that he couldn’t, and suddenly, he was all too aware of you, right next to him. If he just moved his hand a little to the left, he’d come in contact with your hand, perhaps with your thigh. Everything was harder now that he was underneath this blanket with you. He could feel your body heat practically radiating to him, could sense your presence almost painfully.

There was no one around, and you were both hidden under the blanket anyway. He  _ could _ touch you. Surely, no one would know.

But sooner or later, Lenore would ask him the question, and he didn’t think he would successfully lie to her, and then, the consequences would be terrible. He couldn’t take that risk, and it was killing him. The closer he got to you, the more he wanted to touch you. But the closer he got to you, the less he  _ could,  _ because it would only destroy him more if Lenore hurt you. And she would. He didn’t have any doubt that.

The silence that had fallen between the two of you was uncharacteristically thick, as you were both too aware of each other’s presence. Your heart was hammering in your chest and in your ears, and it felt to you that your respiration was loud and heavy. Touching him would be  _ so _ easy, and it was  _ so  _ tempting. You moved your hand in your lap to make sure you wouldn’t do anything like that.

Lenore had thought this through, hadn’t she? With that imperative, she could easily steal moments between you that should have been simply sweet and pleasant.

Well, you wouldn’t let her.

“It doesn’t get that cold in Rhodes, does it?”

It seemed to work in snapping Hector out of whatever thoughts were occupying his mind — possibly, they were the exact same as yours.

“No, it does not,” he replied. “The winters certainly were not as harsh.”

“I’d love to be there right now,” you chuckled. “Though I would not complain about Alexandria, either. That’s where my parents were from. Have you been there?”

“I have not,” he responded, shaking his head. “I have not travelled much, actually.”

Unless you counted Dracula’s castle, but he doubted you would.

“Do you want to?”

A knot formed in his throat at the question. He tried not to think too much about what he wanted, those days. Not since it had been used against him, not since most of his dreams had become unattainable for what he had thought would be eternity. Yet, he swallowed it, and made himself answer you. Because those things  _ should  _ be his, and you were giving him a chance to reclaim them.

“I think I would like to, yes,” he said slowly. There weren’t many place where forgemasters were welcome, so he had never considered it all that much anyway, but he couldn’t say he minded the idea. And it would be nice to get to decide where he wanted to go, for once.

“I could show you around!” you offered with a bright smile.

It was unfair. There you were again, making him hope against all hope that you would take him away from here. Reasonably, he knew you were chained in this place as well, and that you were just imagining what  _ could  _ be. He also knew that hope was a dangerous emotion, way too easy to crush. But he could keep this one for himself. Let it be his most secret dream, the one that could not be taken away from him. The dream that, one day, he would walk through the streets of Alexandria with you.

Hand in hand, perhaps. After all, if he was dreaming, why not?

“I would like that,” he said softly.

He meant it more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could this story finally have a chapter that qualifies as (mostly) fluff? I think it does. I mean it's heavily laced with angst but... Still. Wow. Thank you all a lot for your support and your patience on this story. I might move my updates to once a week, on Wednesdays (even if it is after midnight as I'm typing this), because it feels a bit more reasonable, but I'm still unsure, so I guess we'll see that on Sunday lol. Take care of yourselves, love you all :)


	11. Sleeping

You yawned loudly as you walked into the forge, and a slight smile curled Hector’s lips when he looked at you.

“Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” he asked, voice compassionate, though you didn’t miss the hint of amusement in it.

He was starting to get bolder, more teasing, and you quite liked that, actually. It seemed rather natural for him, this cynical sense of humor, and you felt you were finally starting to see who he was underneath all the hurt, all the pain. Who he’d been before the vampires got their hands on him.

“I’m just tired from the work we did yesterday to insulate  _ your  _ place,” you replied, shooting him an annoyed look that was downplayed immediately by the amused smile on your face.

“Ah. I… do appreciate you taking the time to do that,” he said, and the change in his voice reminded you that Hector still couldn’t take just anything. He seemed to have a hard time placing your intentions more often than not.

You had no way of knowing it, but it was because he never knew what could be used against him. He was relaxing around you, realizing slowly but surely that it didn’t seem to be your type, but the betrayals he’d gone through had left him scarred, and with those scars came reflexes. Lenore, in particular, enjoyed toying with him that way. She’d do something nice for him, then use it against him as soon as she got the chance.

It wasn’t easy, to accept that sometimes, people just do nice things for others, and that one of those persons could be near him.

“Hey, I spend half the day there,” you replied with a laugh, understanding that perhaps he’d mistaken your previous reply. “I’m doing it for myself as well.”

Hector chuckled, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you as you walked to the window. You covered yourself with the blanket with a satisfied sigh, and it took him a little while to realize that he was still staring. He only noticed it when you turned towards him and his blue eyes encountered your big, bright, curious eyes. Understanding he’d been caught staring, he immediately averted his gaze and cleared his throat awkwardly, heat rising to his cheek.

You tilted your head to the side. Clearly, you’d missed something here. Maybe you would have done a better job at putting two and two together if you hadn’t been so tired, but the truth was, your head was throbbing with pain due to the lack of sleep, and you were barely capable to have any coherent thought. Still, you couldn’t afford to sleep right now — you’d still need to go back to help make dinner, probably do some cleaning too — so you tried to start a conversation in order to keep yourself awake.

“So, did you—” Another yawn. “Did you feel a difference with what was done? The guys said it probably wouldn’t hold for more than one winter, but did it help?”

Hector vaguely hummed as a response. His heart was still thumping in his chest, and he was starting to realize what all those— reactions he had around you meant. Something he had told himself would never happen again, because of how vulnerable it had made him last time.

“Yes. It’s much better.”

You frowned vaguely at his short response, but didn’t take offense in it. Perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood for a conversation. It happened to everyone, after all. Still, it definitely wouldn’t help you resist the sleepiness that was filling you. You leaned against the wall, head still turned towards him. You followed the familiar movement of his hands, which you knew by heart by now, and tried to focus, but you felt warm, and safe, and the sound of his hammer was nicely regular, and, surely, it couldn’t help if you closed your eyes for a minute, right?

Just for a minute…

* * *

It took a while for Hector to realize he hadn’t heard your voice in quite some time. You usually made small commentaries, even when he didn’t exactly reply. Today, he’d been too caught up in his own thoughts to notice, until it pierced through him, and he quickly looked up, imagining the worse, imagining you’d been taken away from him and—

You were sleeping. Your eyes were closed, your lips slightly parted, and your respiration was even. Your chest was rising and falling at regular intervals. You were completely at peace.

Hector swallowed. For a brief moment, he envied you. He hadn’t gotten even a minute of peaceful sleep in months. His nights were filled with nightmares and fear, and there was a lot he’d give to be able to just fall asleep like that.

But the envy disappeared quickly, replaced by something warm and pleasant, something hat had him setting down his hammer and walking towards you. You  _ could _ fall asleep here, he thought, because you  _ were  _ safe. He would never let anything happen to you. You had to know that. You had to feel that he— he was there for you. That idea almost had him trembling.

You trusted him.

Of course, you could always be pretending to place your trust in him only to betray him better — you wouldn’t be the first one. Still, he was starting to think that, maybe, it was time to let go of those ideas. You’d proved yourself, hadn’t you? You didn’t seem to be having second thoughts.

There was a lock of hair that had fallen in front of your face, he saw as he arrived in front of you and knelt down to be at the same level as you. When you exhaled, your breath made it move, and then it fell back down. There was something terribly, terribly cute about it, and he wanted to tuck that lock of hair behind your ear, and maybe his hand could brush against your cheek as he did so, and he was already reaching out to do it, and—

And, as he always did,  _ every time  _ he was tempted, he pulled his hand back. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, in the end. He wouldn’t risk losing you just to satisfy this strange urge.

Instead, he cleared his throat. Softly, at first, then a little louder, and you jumped. Your eyes met his as soon as you opened them, and the disoriented look in them instantly faded. It had him holding back his breath as a natural smile formed on your lips, so,  _ so  _ simply. Just from  _ seeing _ him.

“You scared me! Did I— Was I asleep?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry. It’s just getting late, and I thought…”

“Yeah, you did good,” you said, pushing the blanket back and immediately regretting its warmth. “I should probably go. Sorry, I wasn’t great company today.”

Hector shrugged, unsure of what to say.

“That’s okay. At least you’re well rested now.”

“You’re right. Thanks for letting me sleep.”

There was a moment of silent, when you just stared into each other’s eyes, and there was just  _ something  _ between you right now.

It couldn’t last, however, and soon you were standing up and Hector was taking a polite step back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said with a bright smile.

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said under his breath, half hoping you wouldn’t hear him, but the change in your expression told him you had.

“Me too. It’s my favorite part of the day,” you confessed softly, and his heart swelled in his chest.

_ He _ was your favorite part of the day.

You hesitated. You had that weird urge to kiss his cheek, but it was a terrible idea, so you didn’t. You shifted your weight from one feet to the other, then gave him a nod.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said again.

But, on your way out, you dropped a kiss on his dog’s head and winked at him as you got back up. Hector’s eyes widened. His heart was beating faster than he ever remembered it doing, and it did long after you’d disappeared from his view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all doing well in those troubled times and that this chapter gave you a little break <3 I do read your comments even if I don't necessarily reply (because I'm... bad at communicating) and they mean the world to me. It makes me so happy to see you enjoy this story, so keep 'em coming! Love y'all, and I'll see you again next week!


	12. Dancing

The day had been long and tranquil. You had met with Hector after you’d been done with your chores, the two of you had chatted a little, and, as the light was declining outside, you were preparing yourself to go back, when you heard the music. It started out light, maybe a couple of cords played on a lute, which had you looking up already, though Hector didn’t notice. Then it was joined by drums, laughter, and finally, singing. You jumped up to your feet with a smile as Hector turned around, much wearier.

When you got to the door, you glanced up at the sky. Night seemed to have been closer than you had expected, and it didn’t take you long to figure out what the festivities were about.

“It’s the winter solstice,” you said out loud, bright smile forming on your face. “The longest night of the year.”

“And what are they doing?” Hector asked with a frown. He knew there were festivities for the solstices, but he had never taken part in them, or a long time ago perhaps, when he’d been but a child, and he didn’t have many memories.

“Keeping the darkness away, I suppose,” you replied. “Whether because they believe creatures might come for them tonight or because it’s a long night and it’s better to fill it with songs.”

Hector nodded stiffly, watching the forms moving with some curiosity.

“Care to join?” you offered, and he started.

“If they’re trying to keep the darkness away, as you said, I doubt they’ll want me around,” he answered bitterly. It certainly explained why his family always made excuses to keep him at home.

“They’ve hired forgemasters before,” you said, voice soft. “I doubt they would object to your presence. In fact, I doubt they give much credit to those stories. It’s mostly an excuse to relax and drink.”

“You want to join them,” he observed.

“I do,” you chuckled. “I think they’ll give me a break for tonight, and this could be… enjoyable.”

He should have told you to enjoy yourself, and walked back inside. But he liked the look on your face so much at this moment — your smile, the light in your eyes, your cheeks tainted pink by excitement — that he simply didn’t find it in himself. He couldn’t deny you, and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to see you… just a little longer.

“Then should we— should we go?”

The ‘we’ only formed hesitantly on his lips, but he still managed it, and it was oh so worth it, just for the way you turned to look at him, and your smiled widened even more. For a second, he thought you were going to jump into his arms, but then you pulled back, still smiling so brightly it was almost blinding.

“Sure! Do you want to grab a jacket maybe?”

As soon as he was ready, he followed you across the courtyard. He didn’t miss the way the vampires were looking at the happy gathering, but they didn’t look like they were going to intervene. Even if they had, the mercenaries were probably more than able to defend themselves, he assumed.

When he arrived, he realized that there were more women than he’d expected. There were only to other women who looked like servants, and one men, but there had to be five or six women among the mercenaries. It wasn’t hard to tell the groups apart — servants were discreet and looked afraid, even if they were seemingly invited to the celebration as well, whereas mercenaries looked like there was nothing in the world that could scare them.

And then there was you. His eyes followed you around, and it struck him just then how you  _ shined.  _ You didn’t look scared, even if you clearly treaded carefully among people who were all extremely dangerous. The light of the fire caressed your skin, and, when reflected in your eyes, there was something absolutely mesmerizing about it, Hector discovered. The sight alone made his breathing heavier.

He could have watched you for hours. He had only seen you outside once, he realized, in broad daylight, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the desire for more. He wanted to see you in all types of lightning, in the spring and in the summer, in all types of places, wanted to see you in Rhodes and in Alexandria. Wanted you to never leave his sight again.

He realized he’d been staring when you walked back to him with a cup of what he assumed to be wine. You handed it to him, careful not to let your fingertips touch.

“We’re going to dance,” you announced cheerfully. “Do you want to—”

“I can’t dance,” he mumbled. “But you should enjoy yourself.”

“Oh.” You frowned. You’d wanted to offer to teach him, if he didn’t know, but his quick response made you feel he’d decline. Not that it would be easy to teach him without touching him, anyway.

You contemplated staying on the side with him, but the dancers were already walking together, and the sight was just too tempting. You bit your lower lip, looking back between him and them, before finally giving in.

“I won’t leave you for too long,” you promised, putting down your own cup.

He smiled, and simply watched, as you found your place within the dancers. Watched, as your hips swayed, feet light on the ground, and you moved with the rhythm. Watched, as you brushed so  _ easily  _ against other men, taking the hand of your partner, all things he couldn’t do with you, and suddenly, it was excruciating.

He sat through it a while longer, until he simply couldn’t. Until the simple thought of how your skin would feel,  _ taste,  _ drove him insane. There was desire in his feelings, and he was aware of it, aware that he  _ wanted  _ you, but that wasn’t the worst part, not by far. He would have forgotten it all just to touch you. To nuzzle his face in your hair. To hold you. To touch your hand.

The man you were dancing with put his hands on your hips, and you laughed, and it was all too much. He turned away.

You only caught up with him when he was already inside the forge. He heard you calling out his name and, like he had no choice — he didn’t feel like he did — he turned around to face you. Your eyes were worried and thoughtful, and you were panting from the dance, lips parted, and absolutely  _ everything _ about you just so, so tempting.

“Are you okay?” you asked. When he didn’t respond, you added, forcing a smile: “Leaving so soon?”

He didn’t know what to say, so he merely nodded, forcing himself to look away from you.

“I… need to rest,” he said, and even he wasn’t convinced by the poor excuse.

“You sure you don’t want to dance?” you offered. “We don’t have to touch or to do something complicated, we can just—”

You took a careful step towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You were extremely cautious not to touch him, but his eyes still widened, and you watched him swallow.

“You can put yours on my waist.”

You didn’t know why you had whispered it. Maybe because the moment felt so precious, so intimate, that you were afraid of breaking it. Regardless, Hector followed your advice, just as careful as you not to touch you. You started swaying from side to side, and he did the same thing. From the outside, it would probably look extremely strange, with how your hands hovered right above each other’s skin, but you were painfully aware that this was all you could get.

As you spun, you became awfully conscious of his warm breath on your cheek, of the heat he radiated, of how he smelled of hot iron and fir tree. When you dared to look up, you found him staring at you. His blue eyes were shining in the half-light, and your heart missed a beat when you found them. They mirrored your pain, your desire for more than this, but there was also something that almost looked like happiness in them.

Your eyes dropped to his lips, and you pushed yourself up, just a little. Your lips didn’t touch, but you came as close as you could, before dropping back on your heels, moving away from him. This was dangerous. You needed— you needed to put an end to this before you did something that would end poorly for the two of you.

“I should go,” you mumbled.

You didn’t wait for his answer before running out.

Because of that, you didn’t see the deep blush on his cheeks, visible even with his tan skin. You didn’t see him bringing a trembling hand to his lips. You didn’t see him closing his eyes tightly as he tried to burn the images and the feelings in his memory.

You didn’t see him smile, and even if you had, you wouldn’t have realized that it was because you’d wanted to kiss him. There were a lot of horrible things in Hector’s life. Not being able to touch you was definitely on the list, and was only becoming worse as time went on, but the fact that you wanted to touch him, to kiss him, just as much as he wanted to, and yet that you cared enough for him that you wouldn’t… That was more than he could say about most, if not all, people in his life.

It made things just a little more bearable and, even if he knew that soon the desire of actually kissing you would outweigh, for now, he wanted to let himself simply be happy about it, with no ifs, no buts.

You wanted to kiss him, and it made the stars shine brighter tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys will like this chapter! I actually really enjoyed writing it, which is the case for almost everything on this fic, but I don't know, I was just satisfied with this when I wrote it, and I hope you'll like it too :) I'm super glad you liked the fluff in the last chapter and I hope you'll find some in this too, even if it's heavily laced with angst ahah. As you can see, I now have a number of chapters for this, which means I have a 'precise' outline, and by that I mean I either have a title or a vague idea of what happens in them. Originally I had 27 chapters with all the ideas I had for the fic, but I thought it was too bad so I added three more to have 30. That means more slowburn but also more content so... I hope you'll find it worth it.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment if you enjoy my work, it's just been so encouraging to write for an audience who you know enjoys what you're doing, and I love you all!


	13. Absence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied rape. It's an important part of this chapter so I definitely recommend against reading it if it makes you uncomfortable. It's a pretty dark chapter.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized the mercenary group that had left was back. They had to have come home during the night, probably had joined the festivities with the other. You didn’t give it much thought — it didn’t change much for you, just meant you’d have a lot of work, all day long. You’d consider yourself happy if you managed to slip out to go see Hector.

The occasion only presented itself fairly late, and you took it without so much as a second thought. You’d be back soon anyway, you just wanted to drop by to see Hector. After what had happened the night before, there was a strange excitement dancing in your stomach. You hadn’t kissed, not really, but from the way your heart jumped in your chest, it was as if you did and, to be fair, that was as close as the two of you could get at the moment, so you felt justified in your feelings.

You wondered how he would greet you. Would he blush? You could see it. You liked it when he blushed, so you certainly wouldn’t complain. You wondered how he felt about you. It would probably be good to actually have a conversation about it. About Lenore’s orders, too, because, even if you had no intention to disobey her, you knew for certain that it would only get harder not to.

In the end, none of your plans, thoughts and hopes mattered because, when you arrived at the forge, Hector wasn’t there. There was no fire in the hearth, and, even if there was lingering heat from the day before, you felt a shiver run down your spine. Looking around, you realized that the blanket was where you’d left it, which wasn’t a good sign. Last time that had happened…

The cold that seized you then had nothing to do with the actual temperature. It overtook your entire body, freezing you in place, as your mind finally put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Of course. She had come back with the others. She had probably— summoned him or something, and he wasn’t back yet.

You forced yourself to take in a long, deep breath to push the fear out of your mind. Everything was fine. You hadn’t disobeyed her orders. You’d toed the line, maybe, but in the end, you and Hector hadn’t touched. Everything would be fine. Hector would be fine and you, well, she probably wouldn’t kill you.

So why couldn’t you shake that sense of dread that had your entire body tensing?

You lingered in the forge, hesitant. There was always a chance that Hector was in his room, but you didn’t want to intrude on his privacy. There was also a chance that he’d be back soon, and then you’d be able to exchange a few words with him before going back to work yourself.

And always, there was that impression that something terrible was happening, that Hector needed you. It was that impression that had you staying there. You were convinced he’d walk through the door, bloody or just—  _ damaged,  _ in that way he often was after seeing Lenore.

Instead, as you were anxiously watching it, you heard the door to his room open behind you. You spun around, expecting to see him, and a smile was already forming on your lips.

Lenore walked out the door instead, and your smile fell immediately, as confusion overtook you. She looked  _ intensely _ satisfied, practically glowing in fact. Clearly, everything was going her way. When she noticed you, her smile only widened, as you quickly bowed your head.

“It’s good to see you,” she said, and her tone was cheerful but her words were filled with contempt and, again, satisfaction. Like she’d won a fight you didn’t even know you were participating in. “Hector is in his room.”

She watched the realization dawning on your face with obvious delight, as your eyes went from her to the room. As you  _ understood  _ what had been going on in there.

She took a step towards you and delicately cupped your cheek. The gesture could have seemed tender from the outside, but you knew she could kill you in an instant, and you didn’t mistake it for anything other than what it was: her asserting her power over you. Reminding you of your place.

“The two of you are being  _ so  _ good,” she cooed. “Following all of my orders. If you keep it up, I might give you a reward!”

Her hand fell as she gave you another smile.

“Of course, it won’t do if you disobey.”

Her eyes were shining with something harsh and dangerous. Even as you wanted to scream, you bowed again.

“We won’t, Mistress Lenore.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” she said dismissively. “Oh, and Hector is  _ really  _ tired now. He hasn’t had much sleep. Make sure you don’t stay too long.”

Your jaw clenched and you closed your eyes shut tightly as you bowed and nodded once more.

“Yes, Mistress Lenore.”

You were trembling when she walked out the door. Once she had gone, you carefully walked to the door. This was the moment of truth, you thought. You could turn back now. Hector didn’t have to know you were ever there. You could pretend that you didn’t know anything. For a split second, you wondered if you were reading the situation wrong. If these two were— together. If he loved her.

Swallowing, you pushed the door open a little more. Hector was sitting on the side of the bed, bare-chested, head in his hands. He looked up at the creaking sound, and you watched as his eyes filled with horror at your sight, your previous doubts immediately crushed. You watched as he looked away from you in shame, lifting a hand in an attempt to cover himself. You felt sick to your stomach. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears. This was— this was so  _ wrong. _

You didn’t think much. You walked back out of the room to fetch your blanket, unaware of the way he  _ broke  _ inside when he saw you leaving, thinking you were finally abandoning him. When you came back, it was like he could breathe again. You draped the blanket over his shoulders, wrapping him in it. There were more in the bed, but this felt like the right call to make in such a moment.

“Hector,” you said softly as you sat on the ground, in front of him, “are you alright?”

He looked at you. No one had asked him that in forever — or, well, no one had meant it. And with your question, everything he’d worked so hard at concealing finally exploded. Everything with Lenore, with how he was treated, with how he was  _ chained  _ here,  _ forever,  _ with how there was  _ no one  _ in his life who seemed to  _ care,  _ with how  _ alone,  _ how  _ broken  _ he was…

All he could do was silently shake his head as his lower lip started to tremble.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t say anything as sobs had his shoulders shaking. You didn’t say anything as he fought back the tears. You didn’t say anything as he held your blanket tightly, clenching it in his fists, as the only thing he could hold onto right now, as the only thing that reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that there was at least one person that did care. You didn’t say anything as your heart completely broke for him in that moment, as you had to fight every fiber of your being that was screaming at you to take him in your arms.

“Do you—”

“Please,” he begged, voice broken. “Please. Don’t— Don’t ask— Don’t make me talk about her.”

You couldn’t go against him right now. You wanted answers, and you knew you couldn’t let it slide anymore, you’d have to get them, but clearly, tonight wasn’t the time.

“You should rest,” you said softly instead.

“I don’t want to— Don’t want to sleep here.”

So, with gentle movements, careful not to touch him, you guided him to what was usually your spot, by the window. You wrapped him in the blanket as well as you could, and you resisted your final urge to kiss his forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said. If you left any longer, the mercenaries were never going to get off your back.

Hector nodded, rolling around to turn his back on you. He was already ashamed of his outburst, and he wasn’t going to hold you back now. He heard you sigh, but you didn’t say anything else before walking out.

When you were gone, he started to shake again, and this time, the tears rolled freely onto his cheeks. He’d managed not to cry for the past few months. He had, at first, but after that he’d clenched his teeth and he hadn’t let anything pass through. But here you were, and everything came crumbling down. Not because of you, not exactly, but because you acknowledged him as a person. Reminding him that he was one. Not a pet, but an actual human being, with emotions, that he had no choice but to feel.

His tears were bitter. They were tears of disgust, in himself, in Lenore, in the world that surrounded him. They were tears of defeat, because in the end, he had failed in keeping her out, in not letting her affect him any more than she already had. They were tears of anger, too. That night, Hector let himself cry for himself. Cry over his fate, cry over everything that had happened to him.

It made him feel powerless, and he hated that feeling, but that night, there was nothing else he could do. Nothing, but cry himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I know you guys liked the fluff in the previous chapters but, as you'd expected, it came back down pretty harshly... Nothing's over, though, but this chapter is definitely pretty violent. Sorry...


	14. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Heavy conversation about rape throughout this entire chapter, another dark chapter. Again, I recommend against reading it if you're uncomfortable with the subject.

Ever since you had started going to see Hector at the forge, you had never pushed back the moment of visiting him. It always brightened your day. In the beginning, it was mostly because it allowed you to get away from your work for a few hours, but since then, the simple idea of going to see Hector was enough to bring a smile to your lips regardless of what you were doing.

This day, as the moment when you usually went to him approached, you felt a pit of apprehension in your stomach. You didn’t know which state you’d find him in, didn’t know what you would tell him. You did know that you needed to get answers now. You bitterly wished you’d pressed the issue sooner, so you wouldn’t have to do it right after— right after  _ that,  _ but it was too late for now.

With a sigh, you unenthusiastically put down your sponge and, as you always did, slid out, unnoticed by the mercenaries. You crossed the distance that separated you from Hector’s forge unusually slowly, and almost turned around at one point, but with a deep breath, you finally pushed yourself through the door.

Being welcomed by the exact same sight as every time before was disturbing. It was Hector’s back, perhaps just a little too stiff. His hammer was falling down at a regular cadence, his arms moving fluidly, without an ounce of hesitation.

It was like nothing had happened.

Hector’s dog barked, jumping to its feet to come to you, and, outside of maybe a second of interruption, he didn’t interrupt himself.

Slowly, after, of course, petting the dog, you circled around the table. Instead of going by the window, you grabbed a chair to sit facing him, vaguely but unpleasantly aware that this chair had to be for Lenore’s use. The idea gave you some petty satisfaction, however you quickly shook it off to focus on what truly mattered now.

“Are you okay?” you asked, softly, gently.

“Fine,” Hector replied, almost too quickly.

You held back a sigh. The way he retreated into monosyllabic answers when he was,  _ precisely,  _ not fine, while understandable, was exhausting.

“We both know that’s a lie,” you said.

“It is not. I overreacted last night. That is all there is to this story.”

You drummed your fingers on the table, rolling your lips together as you tried to find the right words to say. Hector was a wall, right now, not letting you see anything and, through that, telling you so much already. The tense demeanor, the constant voice, with no variation of the tone, the way he focused on his work so intently— You knew what it all meant.

There were a million things spinning in your mind. You could tell him you knew what it looked like when he lied, you could tell him he’d just been reacting, you could tell him that he needed to come clean to you now. But that wouldn’t be fair to him. As much as you felt you needed those answers, you refused to force his hand. So you tried something else.

“I… don’t know how many people you have to lie to. Lenore. The other vampires. The guards. The mercenaries. Maybe you even have to lie to yourself.” You glanced up at him, noting he’d slowed down, and that his jaw was tight. “But you don’t need to lie to me. Not ever.”

He put the hammer down. He was so tense he looked like a string that was about to break.

“You know me. I want to help. There isn’t much I can do but— I want to do that. I just— I just don’t know how to, and I don’t think I can figure that out unless you talk to me. You don’t have to— to say much, and if you want me to walk out, I will. Just… Please. Let me help.”

By the end, your voice was trembling and tears were welling up in your eyes. You hadn’t expected it to be so hard. You felt you needed to tell him that you would respect his boundaries, but the idea that he would send you out was terrifying and formed a lump in your throat, as you anxiously waited for his answer.

The drawn-out silence, but also the sight of him, clenching the table so hard his knuckles were white, clearly in a pain he hadn’t given you the key to yet, physically hurt you. It weighed on your chest, filled your veins with anxiety. But you waited. You didn’t interrupt him, didn’t ask for an answer again. You just waited.

“What is there to say?” he finally asked through gritted teeth. “You’ve seen it. Lenore and I fuck. There is no more to that story.”

“When I saw you yesterday— you certainly didn’t look like you enjoyed that.”

“I would not describe it that way, but it doesn’t change anything.”

He assorted his sentence with a shrug that he tried to make look nonchalant, but failed. Probably because even he had trouble believing what he was saying.

“It’s not like I refused her,” he mumbled, “or like she forces me.”

And that made it so much worse.

“If you felt like you had a choice,” you said, slowly, “what would you tell her?”

His breath caught in his throat. This was the moment. The answer would define what he had been going through for months, what he had tried to push out of his mind so hard. He didn’t have to look far for it. It was painfully obvious.

“I would tell her no.”

He looked away from you before he could see anything in your eyes. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want your pity. Didn’t want you to look down on him, to see him as lesser because of that. Didn’t want to  _ be _ lesser. To be diminished. To be  _ broken. _

It was almost easier to pretend that he had wanted it all those times. Just so he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality, the  _ finality _ of—  _ that. _

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

And you were. You regretted pushing him. Watching him lose his composure, clearly collapse— That wasn’t your place. You didn’t know what you could have done differently, but you knew  _ this  _ wasn’t it. But Hector shook his head.

“You didn’t do it.”

Voicing it had been— He wouldn’t say it had felt good, but it was at least somewhat liberating. There was a lot more he would have to admit, mostly to himself, but also to you, if you were listening. Not because he felt the need to tell you, rather because saying it out loud helped him make sense of it all. It was the guilt that he didn’t think he could take completely on his own. With a helping hand, though, he thought that maybe, he could sort this out. In time.

“I’m— Do you mind leaving? I’m not pushing you out, I just— I need to be alone.”

You eyes were understanding. There was no pity there, just sympathy, and pain. An ocean of pain that he knew you felt for him.

“Of course. Can I— Can I come back tomorrow?”

You’d never asked before, but he appreciated the gesture.

“I think I’d like that.”

The smile you gave him was small, almost hesitant, and yet there was something so genuinely  _ happy  _ in it that it made his stomach twist. You wanted to be there. By his side. You wanted him to get better. That couldn’t be enough but— It would definitely help.

You gave a small wave as you stepped out, and Hector replied with a nod. He was afraid of what was coming. These emotions he’d spent months bottling… They would probably come out to the surface now, and the situation wouldn’t change. It would be a real nightmare.

But you can always wake up from a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another really intense chapter. Obviously, this is a really delicate, touchy subject, but I did my best to handle it. Thank you all so much for the sweet comments on the last one, and I will see you again next week <3


End file.
